Mine and mine only
by FullmetalScruffs
Summary: Mikaela is mentally and physically hurt, and an unexpecting Autobot discovers a new and very confusing side of himself when he's the only one who seems to be able to do something about her condition. Rivalry between Sam and Ironhide will occur, and angst.
1. Unjustice

**Hey! I'm back with a new fic, and it's not a drabble! Woho! Nice!**

**Well, er, as you see, I've become a transformers fan. Though I've only seen the movie and the four first episodes of G1 (and working on it, don't worry). So it's basically... well, it's movieverse. And since I really want to try different things, I bring you a pairing that I haven't seen before on this site. Or, well, it's not exactly A pairing. It's more... two? Are you becoming confused? Well well. I am too.  
**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even the laptop I'm using right now, and earn no money from this, ok?**

**Warnings: Interracial action, violence, blood and gore, jealousy, possessiveness, angst.  
**

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Mikaela walked down the dark street, hugging herself in the chilly night air. She had been at a friend's party and was going home with rather wobbly steps, since she had had a bit too much to drink. But hey, one only live once, and it wasn't that very far from home. She shivered and quickened her pace, looking down at the sidewalk and hence not noticing the figures coming right at her.

She stopped as she finally saw them, but two of them grabbed her arms and she knew it was too late.

Half an hour later no one saw the broken girl stagger out from the alley she had been pulled into. Her shoes had been lost, so had her handbag. She pulled her skirt back down and tried arranging the remains of her tank top so it would at least cover something; her bra had been torn into two and her jacket was all bloody. She was hurting everywhere, could barely even see and she knew that blood must be running down her thighs, but she had to get away from there.

She began a shaky walk, whimpering in pain at every movement, but stubbornly heading to the closest – and safest – place she knew. She sobbed and struggled, her mind going blank and practically shutting off to protect her sanity, and after what seemed like an eternity she reached the gates of an abandoned junkyard. She pulled at the chain hanging around the bars on the gates, knowing that they only were there to make it look like it was locked. It slipped off with a rattling sound and landed on the dirt below, and she pushed to get inside. She had started to become dizzy and felt sick, but desperation made her broken body push itself over another limit as she kept stumbling over the ground, to the building in the middle of the churchyard for cars.

As she went past the last pile of scrap, her knees gave in and she howled in pain when her body shook at the impact with hard ground. She couldn't stop _now_, it was just ten meters…

She tried rising but her body wouldn't let her – she began crawling instead, dirtying every part of her being as she dragged herself towards the entrance. Shelter… She just had to be sheltered… Nine meters. Hopefully someone would see her when they came out… eight… she couldn't even stand on her knees anymore and collapsed completely. Tears ran down her face as she clawed at the ground.

Movement. Someone was there. She tried calling out, caring about nothing else than not being left outside, maybe the monsters were waiting for her somewhere… it wasn't an option. But her voice didn't want to carry any words.

Clicking. Whirring. Words spoken with a voice that couldn't come from a human. She lifted her head, wincing and feeling more sick than ever, inhaling deeply and fighting unconsciousness. She only had one shot.

"_**SOMEBODY**__** HELP**__** ME**_!!"

She fainted in the same moment that her shriek left her mouth and found Ironhide's hearing sensors.

He dropped the car he had intended to move in an attempt to tidy up the hall, turning on the spot to locate from where the spark-wrenching cry had come. He caught something small on the ground just outside, and his optics shone brightly in confusion as he saw that it was a human. It only took him a microsecond to recognize Mikaela Banes and two to see that she was hurt badly. He ran over to her and got down to his knees, running basic scans. Her heart-rate was dangerously low and her body temperature was constantly sinking.

_"RATCHET!"_ He called over the Wi-Fi. _"EMERGENCY!_"

He collected every piece of data he could get and sent it to the medic, who answered only a moment later.

_"I'm coming. Carry her inside, but CAREFULLY. We don't know about internal injuries."_

His voice was business-like and collected, like always when he got into his role as a doctor, and it always managed to piss Ironhide off. He broke the connection and slowly pushed the tips of both hand's fingers underneath the unconscious girl. The stench of blood contaminated the air and when he lifted her up, there was a dark stain where she had been lying. Disgusted, he rose and hurried inside, keeping his hands completely still in the process. The concrete floor divided as he approached a certain spot and he got down the stairs leading down to their still under-construction underground base.

Ratchet met him inside, and he was followed by Optimus Prime and Bumblebee, who carried Sam in his own hand. Each of the Autobots gave the human Ironhide was holding anxious looks and Sam's scream echoed through the room.

_"MIKAELA!"_

His eyes were filled with tears in an instant and he collapsed into a heap, sobbing. Ratchet gave her a quick look and turned around, abruptly marching away. Ironhide followed without questioning and was led to the infirmary. The medic began extracting strange instruments from his hand and sunk them down into a bowl filled with clear fluid that smelled sharply.

"Put her there." He said, nodding towards the examination table. Ironhide obeyed wordlessly, carefully laying her down. He saw blood glistening on his fingers. Sam kept sobbing against Bumblebee's hand.

"Everyone out." Ratchet ordered, switching tools over and over and deciding which to use first. They all were sharp or had different kinds of hooks attached to them. Prime took a step towards the door, hesitated for a moment and gave his friend an anxious look.

"Do you…"

_"OUT!"_

No one was stupid enough to go against Ratchet's authority after that; when he even yelled at their leader, things were _bad._

The old Autobot extracted a scissor from his stack of tools and began to cut off the remains of what once had been clothes from her body. There was blood everywhere, but the only place that had suffered from real damage was really between her legs. She had black eyes, cuts on her face, a broken wrist, no internal damages, a sprained ankle, bruises and chafes everywhere, and… he couldn't help but grimace. Her vagina had suffered such damage that slices of flesh was hanging loosely from the outer parts.

He began doing what he could for the now thoroughly sedated girl, patching her up and doing so with delicacy; her mental wounds would be bad enough without having to suffer from physical injuries upon it. He silently wished a thousand eons of torment for the monsters that had done it to her.

When he finally left the infirmary, he found three other Autobots waiting for him right outside. Bumblebee was still holding Sam, who had calmed down somewhat but had red, swollen eyes as a proof of crying just recently. Optimus Prime was waiting patiently for a report, and Ironhide, who was standing closest to the door, tried looking over the medic's shoulder to catch a glimpse of the room.

"She's sedated and I've done what I can for her." He told them all, and added a bitter "but I don't know how damaged her mind is."

"What do you mean?" Prime asked worriedly. "What happened to her?"

But Sam answered the leader before Ratchet even had opened his mouth. He sat in Bee's palm, hugging his knees and staring out into nothing, though his voice told them that he was well aware of everything that happened around him.

"She's been raped." He said grimly. Ironhide frowned lightly.

"R…"

"It's one of the foulest crimes that ever appeared in the history of humans." Ratchet told him. "They forced themselves on her in every way possible. And considering all the physical and mental damage she's taken, we'll be lucky if she even will be able to talk with anyone when she wakes up."

New tears came down Sam's face; he cried in silent compassion and revulsion, also being the only one that actually could do such a thing. Bumblebee put his free hand on the boy's back and looked lost. Ironhide's fingers twitched unpleasantly, and Optimus Prime's face hardened.

"We'll find the ones who did it." He said darkly. "And I'll kill them myself."

Ratchet merely shook his head.

"We will gain nothing by hurting them."

"So they'll just _roam free_?" Ironhide roared into the face of the medical officer, gesturing towards the closed door. "After what they did to her?"

Ratchet remained calm, though he really wanted to agree with his comrade in this matter. He had to be logical. "We do not hurt humans, have you forgotten that?"

Ironhide looked furious.

"So _they_ can hurt each other but _we_ can't do anything? How are we supposed to protect anyone if we can't avenge them? If it helped, I'd go tracking them down until every single one is dead, and bear their heads tied around my neck as an accessory!"

"Ironhide!" Optimus Prime said sharply. The weapon's specialist stared at his leader, but Prime only shook his head.

"If you don't calm down you'll be waking Mikaela. She ought to have all rest she can."

The black robot looked down at his hands, on which the blood had begun drying. Ratchet grabbed the weapon specialist's shoulder in a friendly gesture.

"It's thanks to you that she got treatment." He said lowly. "If you hadn't heard her, she would be lying out there and probably bleed to death."

The medic's words made Ironhide cringe slightly. He looked at his comrade for a moment, nodded once and turned away.

"I'll go wash this off." He told them, and the other Autobots followed him with their optics. Sam was sobbing lightly and Bumblebee held him a bit tighter.

Ironhide closed the door to his quarters quietly and headed towards the rag that had been thrown onto the working table standing by a wall. He sat down and took it slowly while lifting his free hand, studying the glistening fluid on his paint. He had never encountered blood before. At least not like this. And Mikaela's blood, not some stranger's. He began wiping himself off with the soft fabric, seeing it become stained as the fibers suck it up. He'd never be using that rag again. Ratchet's words still rang through his mind.

_"If you hadn't heard her, she would be lying out there and probably bleed to death."_

He switched hand.

Of course he had heard her, and her shriek was repeating itself in his head every second. The sound of it made him feel… _angry!_ That someone even could do such a thing to another. The little being, the strong, violent girl, was now a wreck thanks to someone that she never had hurt in the first place. It was _NOT RIGHT!_

Mikaela's helpless cry replayed and he threw the rag into the wall, saw a small, red drop of blood let go of the fabric and run down the paint as they collided. He put his head in his hand and sighed. He hadn't done anything, why did he feel like he had?

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**That was the first chapter. Flames will be ignored, otherwise I'll be guaranteeing you an answer if you comment. I love those of you who took the time to read this (hopefylly not) crap!**


	2. The night watch

**Okaaay... first of all I will apalogize for making you wait for such a slagging long time! -makes a bow so deep that my nose hits the floor tiles with a crunch- You see, I wrote pretty much of this story, and then my hard drive broke. Yeah, broke... kaput. All stories gone, everything. It kind of got me out of the mood, but as you can see, I'm back! And this gave me the chance to evolve the original idea (just as you said, "the laughing platypus". Thank you for your support!)**

**This chapter is awfully short, but i decided to post it as proof that I'm actually alive, and the story too. And now when I'm back in the mood, it won't take several months for me to post the next chapter. I am really very sorry for almost giving up!**

**Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to their creators, and I make no money of this fic.**

**Warnings: In this particular chapter, there are none... I think. Angsty content?  
**

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It was 2 am. The greenish yellow-painted Autobot had finally settled on his recharge pad in the room neighboring to the infirmary. Data streamed through his cpu constantly, sensors gathering information from the fleshling as the narcosis wore off and she slowly switched to natural sleep.

He wondered whether she would remember what had happened or not. He had read about cases where the brain shuts off memories from tragic events. A part of him hoped that that would be the case, but the more logical part told him that those kinds of things weren't lasting forever and when the memories resurfaced, it would be just as bad as before.

A slight change in the stream of data he received made him pull out of his thoughts. He lay completely still for a moment, analyzing the info – yes… it had begun. He sat up, feeling his limbs going heavy in the need for recharge, but he ignored it and walked into the infirmary. He cast a glance towards the berth, where Mikaela had begun trashing around. The IV hoses were pulled at and the pain in her arms dragged her out of the restless sleep. Ratchet saw her eyes opening in the same moment as he reached for a small bottle on a shelf above his working space. He could feel her adrenaline levels rising, and it was soon accompanied to something close to hyperventilating – she _did_ remember. Slag it. He pulled out a syringe from its casing and stuck it into the bottle, drawing some of the slightly pink-colored liquid out and up into the tube. He turned to look at Mikaela again and had to bypass his emotional processors; her eyes were leaking at the pain – whether it was physical or psychological, he could not tell. As he approached her, she gave him a begging, questioning look that searched for some proof that it all had been a bad dream. Since he couldn't give her such comfort, he didn't speak and instead reached out for her arm. Mikaela's face contorted as she let out a quiet sob and new tears ran down her face.

"Ratchet…" she whispered hoarsely. The medic stuck the needle into the thin skin on her forearm, inserting the soporific substance in silence.

It only took a moment for her eyes to become glazed over. Her crying ceased slowly and Ratchet let his free hand land on the girl's head, stroking carefully until she had gone back into oblivion. He put the syringe down on the side table and kept his hand on her head, and didn't turn around as the door slid open and a well-known presence entered the room.

Optimus Prime contemplated the scene with calm optics, sighing.

"I sensed movement."

Ratchet didn't turn to look at the Autobot leader, but kept stroking the girl's hair absent-mindedly. The machines surrounding her beeped and hummed, accompanying the soft sound of her calm breaths.

"She woke up." He mumbled. "I took care of it."

"How was it?"

Ratchet's posture relaxed somewhat and he let out something equivalent to a human's sigh.

"Bad." He said. After a moment's silence, he turned to face his comrade and added: "She remembers."

Prime nodded.

"The harm is already done. We can only do so much to help her."

His gaze wandered over the medic's weary face.

"How long was it since your last recharge?"

Ratchet walked across the infirmary, shaking his head and fighting the fatigue that had reminded itself of its presence at Prime's words.

"I'll manage." He tried waving it off and picking up a set of instruments to clean and sharpen. "I've been through worse."

Optimus contemplated Ratchet, a hint of worry in his calm features.

"Yes, but you are not helping Mikaela by deactivating in the middle of an emergency. Go recharge. I'll hold the positions meanwhile."

The medic's movements halted and he looked at the bigger Transformer, the stubborn façade beginning to crumble.

"You would do that?" He asked wearily.

Optimus nodded.

"Just tell me what to do when she wakes up."

Ratchet put the tools back in their respective boxes before waving for the other to come closer. He began pulling out different bottles and containers, putting them on the working table.

"This is used for making her fall asleep again." He explained, lifting the bottle he had been using a couple of minutes ago, and then he took another syringe and pointed at the marking on it. "This much is sufficient for it to work. And the other bottle over there should be used if the wounds get infected, and there are compresses, bandages, and…"

The medic, who had been on his way to a shelf on the opposite wall, stopped and swayed dangerously on the spot. Optimus rushed forward to support his friend, taking hold of his arms and keeping him steady.

"I think I can handle it. You go straight to your recharge pad and don't leave it for at least twelve earth hours. That is an order."

He helped Ratchet get to the other room, and for once, said CMO not protest at almost being carried. He felt like a helpless sparkling, but it was no use contradicting his leader when it came to the health of others – especially his men. So he simply went with it. They both knew why he was out of energy, but none of them spoke of it. The now fully repaired – though lifeless – silver painted body lying in another room silently told everyone about hours and hours of work and lack of rest.

Ratchet lay down on his recharge pad, and Optimus barely had the time to let him go before the medic was pulled into a deep, well-needed recharge.


End file.
